The Phantom of Berk
by HorrorFan6
Summary: When Hiccup shows a surprising talent for song and credits his mysterious "Spirit of Music," Astrid finds herself in the middle of a seemingly unsolvable puzzle involving disembodied voices, unusual demands, and a murderous specter that haunts the island, an entity known only as the Phantom of Berk. Based on the novel "The Phantom of the Opera" by Gaston Leroux, NOT the musical.
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is an important note, so please read it before going into the story!**

 **Some time ago, I wrote a one-shot in which Hiccup and Astrid sing "All I Ask of You" from Andrew Lloyd Webber's** _ **The Phantom of the Opera**_ **. In the A/N, I said that I had once had the idea to retell the entire story with these characters, though I never got any farther than initial planning. Well…I've been rereading the book – Gaston Leroux's** _ **The Phantom of the Opera**_ **is my all-time favorite book, and I never get tired of reading it – and the idea was rekindled. And so here we are: I have set out to retell the entire novel with the HTTYD characters.**

 **Now, here are a few things you ought to be made aware of before starting. This story is based on Gaston Leroux's novel, NOT the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical based on it. So please do not leave any reviews that say, "oh that didn't happen in the musical, you got it wrong" because I will disregard them. It's based on the original book, which I think is better than the stage show or any movie adaptation. The book. Not the musical. Remember that.**

 **It's also a gender reversal of the story. Hiccup will play the role of Christine Daaé, and Astrid the role of Raoul de Chagny. The Phantom…well, you'll find out in due course. I know some of my readers didn't like the fact that some of my fairy tale retellings reversed the genders, but there is a reason for this change, and a pretty big one: Astrid just doesn't fit in the role of Christine. She's not gullible enough to be fooled by the Phantom's lies, whereas I think Hiccup might, if certain things are said and certain events unfold. And besides, Astrid really fits Raoul's character quite well: she's the type to go after Hiccup with everything she's got in order to figure out exactly what's going on. (And besides, the gender reversal allows for Snotlout to play Carlotta, which is simply too good to pass up. XD) So yes, it's a gender reversal. Please, no complaints, for my mind is made up and I'm not changing it.**

 **This is an AU story, but it does assume the events of the first film took place. So Hiccup befriended Toothless and ended the war with dragons and lost his leg in the battle with the Red Death. Other than that, however, no other entry in the franchise fits in this canon. This is especially true of the TV show. The only thing I'm carrying over from the show is the existence of the tunnels under the village. That's it. Some characters from the show will appear, but the circumstances behind their roles are totally different. Also, Valka is really dead in this AU, and she was buried on the island.**

 **One last thing: there will be character death. _The Phantom of the Opera_ is a Gothic horror novel, and it does feature death. Thus my retelling will as well. Just a heads-up. **

**And of course,** _ **How to Train Your Dragon**_ **belongs to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks SKG.** _ **The Phantom of the Opera**_ **is by Gaston Leroux. (Also, for this prologue, I borrowed a bit from the radio broadcast adaptation by Big Finish Productions, by far the best and most faithful adaptation of the novel.)**

 **With all that out of the way, I hope you enjoy! The prologue's pretty short, but the following chapters will be longer.**

Prologue

The Phantom of Berk really existed.

I know what you're thinking: that she was merely a story, a tale made up by parents to entertain or scare their children, a specter produced by the imaginations of the more superstitious Vikings, brought to life by rumor and gossip. But you're wrong. She was very real, of flesh and blood, although she took on the complete appearance of a phantom; that is to say, of a spectral shade.

And this is her story.

It all happened on the Isle of Berk, a small island in the middle of the Barbaric Archipelago. This island is home to a village of Vikings, generally a sensible lot and not prone to superstitious fancy. But in this case, well…let's just say that there wasn't a soul on Berk that did not believe in the existence of this Phantom by the time all was said and done.

Of course you don't have to take my word for it. Her reign of terror wasn't all that long ago, and the people of Berk still remember her with vivid detail. You could ask any of the Vikings dwelling in the village today about what happened, although I must warn you: most of the villagers don't like to talk about it. The Phantom of Berk is a touchy subject for most, and if you bring her up they're just as likely to ask you to leave, sometimes with a well-aimed kick to the rear. Those that are actually willing to speak of her do so in hushed tones, as if afraid she might swoop down from on high and strike them dead on the spot. You may laugh, but just remember: you weren't there. You have no idea of the power of the Phantom, of the hold she had on Berk for those few weeks all those years ago. And even though nothing has happened since then, there are many who still fear her, who still shudder at the sound of her name, who lie awake at night thinking of her and all the trouble she caused. So remember that before you start laughing at what you might assume to be the overreactions of superstitious townspeople. The Phantom was no laughing matter, as I hope to illustrate to you in these pages.

The story of the Phantom took place about thirty years ago, only four or five years after the integration of dragons into the lives of the Vikings of Berk. You remember that story of course, don't you? It's the thing of legend: the tale of how Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III befriended the Night Fury Toothless and ended the three hundred-year war between Vikings and dragons for good is still passed down from father to son, mother to daughter, even now. But of course, that story had a happy ending. This one, however…well, you can ask Hiccup about the ending of this tale. I'm sure he wouldn't say it ended well for him, or for anyone on Berk. He's now the chief of the village, and while he performs his tasks with admirable strength of body, mind, and heart, the mark of the Phantom is still evident on his face. She left quite an impact on him, and no wonder. After all, he was at the center of her plot…

Forgive me. I'm getting ahead of myself. We were speaking of the Phantom of Berk.

I've spent the past several years compiling all the information I could gather on the Phantom. There are some very valuable testimonies out there, for those of you who want to receive a firsthand account of what happened. Perhaps most noteworthy is the story told by one Alvin the Treacherous, for he was another of the key players in this little drama. Do not be fooled by his title, though: he will not lead you astray when he speaks of the Phantom. Whenever she is mentioned, he grows quite grave and somber, and despite his advancing age, his memory of what happened is still sharp and clear as it was the day it all happened.

But perhaps word of mouth is not enough for you. Perhaps you will be skeptical of such a wild and improbable tale as this. After all, surely such things could never have actually happened. These "eyewitnesses" I have mentioned must have been mistaken, or perhaps they are exaggerating the truth to the point of ridiculousness. Either way, you may doubt the validity of the tale I'm about to unfold. Surely the Phantom of Berk could not have actually done all this, and this little book is nothing but a collection of imaginative stories made up by people with too much time on their hands.

Well then…how do you explain the skeleton?

Oh yes, I thought that would get your attention.

A year or so ago, Vikings exploring the tunnels underneath the village discovered a corpse, the body of a woman. But this was no ordinary skeleton: the limbs were distended and the skull…

But you'll find out about the skull in due course.

First things first: let us journey together back in time to that fateful evening in the Great Hall on the Isle of Berk, to those young Vikings and their silly little ghost stories. For this is where our tale really begins.

And how do I know all this?

I was there, my friend. I was there.

 **A/N: Again, I know it's short, but it's just the prologue. The actual chapters will be longer.**

 **I have a request: I recently posted a one-shot called "The Phantom of the Valley," another retelling of** _ **The Phantom of the Opera**_ **, this time with horses. I could really use your input on that one, since I hope to rewrite the story as a novel, and any advice would be quite welcome. So please go check it out and tell me what you think.**

 **Also, for those of you who have been following my** _ **Dragon Tales**_ **and are expecting** _ **The Servant and the Heir**_ **and** _ **The Mermaid and the Glass Slipper**_ **, these projects are on hold for the time being. With Halloween approaching, my interests have shifted to darker material, hence my sudden desire to reread** _ **The Phantom of the Opera**_ **. I'm sorry for those of you who were looking forward to these other stories, or for those waiting for a continuation of** _ **Return to the Sea**_ **. What with my interests shifting and writer's block making things difficult, all projects are on temporary hiatus except for this and possibly the one-shot collection. Sorry for the inconvenience. Please have patience: I promise to return to these stories as soon as I feel confident I can do so with all the passion and drive they deserve.**

 **I hope you've enjoyed this little prologue and that you'll enjoy the tale to follow. :)**


	2. Chapter One: Ghost Stories

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm back! …hopefully…maybe…I don't know, we'll see…**

 **Anyway, here's the long-awaited first chapter of** _ **The Phantom of Berk**_ **, my HTTYD retelling of Gaston Leroux's** _ **The Phantom of the Opera**_ **. (And since it has been so long since I updated this story, I encourage you to go back and read the prologue again, just to refresh your memory.) I'm really sorry it took so long to get this done, but that's just how life goes sometimes. Hopefully the next chapter won't be too long in completing.**

 **Enjoy!**

Chapter One

Ghost Stories

The sun had just set, and the Vikings of Berk had gathered in the Great Hall for the evening meal. The cavernous room, built into the side of the mountain rising above the village, rang with the talk and laughter of men and women glad to be done with another day's work. The hall was well-lit, illuminated by torches in brackets lining the walls as well as a fire pit in the center of the room, in which orange flames crackled merrily. The light filled every corner of the hall, reflecting off the giant golden dragon sculpture hanging from the center of the ceiling high above. On the whole, it was a peaceful scene, filled with a sense of contentment and ease.

This mood was shattered when Fishlegs Ingerman burst into the hall and cried, "It's the Phantom!"

This declaration was met with a stunned silence from those seated closest to the doors. Everyone within hearing range turned to look at the stout young Viking, who stood on the threshold, trembling with fright. His skin was pale and his eyes wide, practically popping from his skull.

"I…I saw her!" he croaked, rushing into the hall, leaving two disgruntled men to close the doors behind him. "She was heading into the forest! She was wearing this big black cloak that billowed out behind her like the wings of a dragon!"

There was another moment or two of silence. Then someone chuckled, and a second later half the hall was roaring with laughter while the other half, made up of those who hadn't heard Fishlegs's words, looked around in confusion. "Good one, Fishlegs," someone called. "Like the wings of a dragon. I'll have to remember that one."

I know what you're thinking, my friend: quite a dismissive response from a group of Vikings who were supposedly so afraid of this legendary Phantom. Allow me to explain that, at this point in our story, most of Berk either knew nothing about or outright dismissed the idea of the Phantom of Berk. It was only after the Phantom began making her demands and causing terrible things to happen, things we will come to soon enough, that the village as a whole became aware that she did in fact exist. So really it is not surprising that Fishlegs's insistence that he'd seen the Phantom was met with incredulity. After all, only a handful of Berk's citizens even believed in this specter at this time. But that would soon change.

To return to the story:

Blushing at this flippant reaction to his fears, Fishlegs shuffled away from the doors, taking a seat at a nearby table. Unfortunately he could not escape the laughter even here, for seated across from him was his friend Snotlout Jorgenson, a brawny young man of about twenty with a cocky demeanor and prideful attitude. "The Phantom!" he cried in a mockingly high and squeaky voice, waving his hands overdramatically for emphasis. "Ooh, it's the Phantom! Look out everyone, she's gonna get you! Ooh!"

The twins Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thorston, who were also seated at this table, laughed at the joke, while Fishlegs glowered. "I did see her!" he insisted. "I swear it! And she looked just like Gobber said she did."

Gobber the Belch was Berk's blacksmith, a cheery and good-natured fellow who was good at his job and liked by almost everyone on the island. (The one exception was Mildew, a crotchety old man who lived in the house furthest from the village. He didn't like much of anyone, and the feeling was fairly mutual.) He was a talkative man, too, and nothing pleased him quite so much as spinning tall tales and relating them to the children. His favorite seemed to be of the Boneknapper, a dragon that created a coat of armor made entirely from the bones of its reptilian brethren. The Boneknapper itself was quite real, as the town had discovered, but there were many aspects of Gobber's tale – a hammerhead whale swallowing the dragon, a hammerhead yak jumping from a volcano, and Thor Himself sending down a lightning bolt to open a chasm in the ground – that were a little too strange to be believed.

Gobber was also one of the few people on Berk who believed in the Phantom, and who claimed to have actually seen her face-to-face.

"Really?" Snotlout said to Fishlegs, sounding amused and not the least bit convinced. "And how could you see her face if she was running away from you into the forest?"

Fishlegs colored slightly but didn't back down. "She looked back at me as she ran. It was only for a second, but it was long enough for me to see her face…oh, that face…!"

"Yeah, I have that reaction all the time when I look at my sister's face," Tuffnut remarked. Ruffnut punched him in retaliation. Neither Snotlout nor Fishlegs paid them any mind. This kind of thing happened too frequently for them be surprised.

"I have never seen anything like it before in my life!" Fishlegs went on, lowering his voice to a whisper. "It was like looking at a skull! A skull with glowing eyes like fire!"

Snotlout scoffed. "That's not what she looks like at all!" he said flippantly. "Everyone knows that she has a head of fire. That's all you can see of her: just a floating head of flame that rushes at you, screeching in rage before it consumes you." He shrugged. "That's what my dad says anyway."

"That sounds cool!" Tuffnut said, sounding awed. "I wish I had a head of fire!"

"I wish you did too," Ruffnut chuckled, imagining her brother's hair set ablaze and highly amused by the mental picture. Again, the twins went ignored by the other two.

"Anyway, the whole thing's a bunch of dragon dung," Snotlout insisted. "The Phantom of Berk is just a legend. She doesn't really exist."

"Gobber says she does," Fishlegs said stubbornly. "He says she lurks in the shadows just outside the village, always watching, always keeping out of sight. He says she has a face like death, with yellow skin stretched tight over the bone. Her nose…why, she doesn't even have one! Just a hole where a nose should be! And her eyes…her eyes are like fiery coals. They glow in darkness, and they are the only part of her that can be seen at night. That's when Gobber saw her, you know. It was sunset, so he could get the barest glimpse of her face and also see her fiery eyes."

"And did Gobber manage to speak to the Phantom?" Snotlout asked with a taunting smile on his face.

Fishlegs's face fell slightly. "I don't know," he replied. "He was about to tell me but then Alvin the Treacherous showed up and told Gobber to hold his tongue." He looked furtively around, as if checking to make sure Alvin wasn't around to overhear what he was about to say. Then he went on, "Do you think Alvin is somehow connected with the Phantom?"

"Why would you ask that?" Snotlout said, frowning.

"Because…" Fishlegs considered for a moment. "…he always seems to be around when the Phantom has done something, or when she's been seen. He's always pretty vocal in telling people not to speak of her, at least not at length. Doesn't that seem strange to you?"

Snotlout shrugged. "He probably thinks it's silly to talk about things that don't exist."

"I wonder where he came from," Fishlegs mused. "He just showed up here one day with no explanation, just the name Alvin the Treacherous. What did he do to earn that title? What kind of treachery did he perform, and does it have anything to do with why he came to Berk?"

"I think it had something to do with disobeying his chief's orders or something like that," Snotlout said. "Like, he tried to overthrow him and take over the village, but he failed. Obviously."

"There's nothing obvious about any of it," Fishlegs countered, shaking his head. Then he added thoughtfully, "I wonder if he's somehow in league with the Phantom?"

"Oh please!" Snotlout huffed. "You think everyone is in league with the Phantom! Next you'll be saying that these two clowns are in league with her!"

He gestured toward the twins, who smirked in return. "How do you know we're not?" Ruffnut inquired.

Fishlegs raised his eyebrows in amusement. "You?" he said dubiously. "You're saying you could possibly be in league with the Phantom of Berk? Really?"

"Why not?" Tuffnut said. "It could happen."

"Yeah," scoffed Snotlout. "When a Gronckle wins a dragon race."

"Hey!" Fishlegs said, scowling. His Gronckle Meatlug was notorious for being the slowest dragon on the island.

"You're not smart enough to be working for the Phantom," Snotlout said, looking amused by the very idea. "She's supposedly a master of stealth, and you two cause way too much trouble wherever you go to ever be quiet enough to match her!"

"Who said the Phantom was quiet?" Ruffnut asked. "She's not, you know. She has a voice. And all that stuff about her death-face and head of fire is wrong."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Fishlegs.

"Our mother told us," Tuffnut said proudly, apparently pleased that he was able to prove the bookish Fishlegs wrong for once. "She said she once heard the Phantom speak to her."

"Oh? And what did she say?" Snotlout asked, his expression unchanged.

"She asked her to leave that part of the woods," Tuffnut said. "Mom was walking through the forest and apparently invaded the Phantom's territory. So she asked her to leave."

"And there was no death face or head of fire anywhere to be seen!" Ruffnut declared. "It was just the voice, standing right beside her even though no one was there! So you see? Gobber is wrong about the Phantom! Everyone is!"

"Isn't your mother the same woman who once claimed to see trolls dancing in the village square in the middle of the night?" Snotlout inquired innocently.

"That's not the point," Tuffnut retorted. "The point is, she heard the Phantom's voice! So she knows better than anyone what she—"

"Pardon the interruption," said a voice, and all four of them jumped. They twisted around to look up into the face of Alvin the Treacherous.

Alvin's visage was not a pleasant one to behold. He was a big man, broad in the shoulder and thick around the arms. He had a thick black beard which was almost always tangled and matted. He wore scaly armor sporting long, sharp spikes which deterred everyone from coming too close for fear of being skewered. His flesh, what was visible of it at least, was marred by scars, remnants of wounds no one knew the story behind, for no one had ever dared to ask him of his past. Perhaps most disconcerting about him, however, was his eyes. They were small and beady, dark as pitch and void of warmth. To be caught in Alvin's gaze was to feel you were being invaded, as if he could look past your appearances and into your very soul.

So it was hardly surprising that Fishlegs, Snotlout, and even the twins blanched upon realizing their conversation had been overheard by this strange, otherworldly man.

He didn't seem to either notice or care that his presence was unwanted. He looked from one Viking to the next with his cold eyes, staring them down until they lowered their gazes. For a long moment he said nothing, and an uncomfortable silence pervaded the scene.

Then he said in his deep, gravelly voice, "It is unwise to speak about things one doesn't understand. Particularly when those things are of such a…delicate matter."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Snotlout demanded, apparently ashamed of his earlier show of submissive fear and wanting to make himself seem tough and brave.

Unfazed, Alvin leaned in close and said quietly, "It means that there are some things that ought not to be discussed, boys. Things such as a ghost that might not like being talked about. Such a ghost may prove to be…unhealthy for the village. Do I make myself clear?"

Snotlout tried to hold Alvin's eyes but failed after only a few seconds, lowering his head. "Yes, sir," Fishlegs squeaked, nodding vigorously. Even Ruffnut and Tuffnut seemed lost for words. For once, they had no comeback and merely gazed mutely at the mysterious stranger.

Apparently satisfied, Alvin nodded and straightened. "Good. Bear that in mind in the future, won't you?"

And with that, he walked away, leaving an uneasy silence in his wake.

 **A/N: Again, I'm sorry this took so long, and hopefully the next chapter will be done soon. Hope you enjoyed this! :)**


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